Are you being honest with yourself? Are you being honest with other people? Does it even matter either way?
Do you really think if you erase the words, the feelings will just go with them? I think, there’s got to be a way. I can make them go away.
But it’s my own darkness that lurks there in the danger of proximity, like osmosis pulling the worst parts of me out into the light to devour everyone nearby. It’s my own compulsion to sink my claws into what I feel is mine, to rip through anyone who stands in the way of what I want. But when you try to free something out of an animal’s clenched teeth, you only tear it apart.
I know well what awakens this part of me. A fixation, a temptation, a star to orbit around. A face once memorized…
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Am I being honest with myself? Am I being honest with other people? Does it even matter either way?
Would it really be so bad to burn the world and everything in it? Is a decade of self-indulgence enough to satisfy the hunger?
No.
Does it even matter either way?